


You're a What?

by CottageCheese6535



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Gen, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Fourth Year, I think that's all of them - Freeform, i need to sleep, i'll add more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-01-01 11:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottageCheese6535/pseuds/CottageCheese6535
Summary: Just weeks after the defeat of the Red Death, Hiccup wakes up in a castle with no idea how he got there. Where in the name of Thor is he, and how is he going to get back home?





	1. Utter and Complete Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> Having lost all motivation to continue this story, mainly because I didn't plan it out at all or know where it was going, I instead pretended it never existed. However, I recently returned to it and reread what I had written, and almost died of embarrassment. 
> 
> So here’s a rewritten version of the first chapter that smushes together a bunch of smaller chapters. I’m gonna do my best to actually write with some semblance of quality this time. The rewritten second chapter should be up soon, with some actual story progression as well.
> 
> Returning readers, it’s a little different, so you should probably read it again. New readers, hi, hello, I’m bad with updates, but welcome to the show I guess.

There was a great, swirling cloud of light and sound. Colors danced before Hiccup’s eyes, twisting around each other, condensing into shapes and then losing their form just as quickly. Sometimes a figure would begin to emerge from the oddly tinted clouds, but then swarms of blue or red or purple would pass in front, and it would vanish into the fog.

 

Hm. Something about this was a little odd. 

 

Hiccup tried to move, but either his legs were stuck to the ground, or he didn't have legs at all. There was a humming noise too, and an odd hissing, like sand leaking out from someone’s clenched fist. Hiccup found it interesting, but at the same time wished he was back in bed. He knew he shouldn't have gotten up this morning. Or had he gotten up at all?

 

The figure came out from the fog again, out from behind a tall shape made of yellow and green mist that disappeared in a swirl of brown and orange. Hiccup could make out more of the world now, and as he watched, the swirl solidified into a long, polished table. It was blurry, and it moved about within itself, like fog being blown in the wind, but it was there. The figure was clearer now too, and as Hiccup watched, it seemed to grow big flaps off to its sides, and a long rope that stretched away from its lithe body.

 

Hiccup squinted. “Toothless?” His voice was nearly inaudible beneath the booming racket all around him, but the figure perked up when it heard him speak. Hiccup heard the figure croon, and then a cloud of blue and grey drifted in front of it. When it passed, the figure was gone.

 

The blue and grey drifted up (it might have been down, his sense of direction wasn't at it's best right now) and spread across the void. It began to gain the appearance of a sky full of stormy clouds. More tables began to form as well, shades of brown and red drifting together and solidifying into one beautiful shade of amber.

 

Toothless bounded back into view. He jumped up onto the table closest to Hiccup and whined, tilting his head. Two green orbs slowly came into focus, and Hiccup realized they were Toothless’ eyes. 

 

“Toothless! Are you okay?” Hiccup shouted. The humming and hissing were starting to die off, but the sound was still deafeningly loud. “C’ mere bud!”

 

Toothless whined again. He took a step forward, then leaped off of the table towards Hiccup. But before he hit the ground a cloud of green and blue swept by. Once again, when it passed, Toothless was gone. Hiccup followed the cloud with his eyes as it went by. It drifted up towards the stormy sky, then over to a separate cloud of red and yellow. They merged together into some kind of crest, dark, shadowy shapes inside each color too...liquidy to make out.

 

Little spots of light swirled around Hiccup’s head. Hiccup reached out, wanting to touch one, but stopped to stare at his outstretched hand. He was as foggy as the rest of his surroundings, it seemed. He turned his hand, inspecting it from all angles. He could make out each of his fingers, but if he clenched his fist they all merged together into a murky, fleshy lump.

 

Hiccup let his hand drop back down to his side, shuddering. The sound was barely a whisper now, and the tables and crest and sky were slowly becoming clearer and clearer. There were walls now, too, and the little lights had gone to drift above the tables. The longer Hiccup looked, the more the lights looked like candles.

 

Then, so fast Hiccup almost missed it, the entire room snapped into focus. He stumbled back, finding that he could move again, and tripped over his own feet. He caught himself on one of the tables, and then slowly let himself sink to the floor as he took in his strange and beautiful surroundings.

 

The Great Hall (because what else could it be?) was lit by thousands of candles that drifted across the room, bobbing gently like ships in the sea. Four long tables stretched across the hall, laid with golden plates and goblets and cutlery, all shimmering in the candlelight. At the end of the hall was a fifth table, with expensive-looking chairs instead of benches like the other tables had. 

 

Hiccup remembered the blue and grey sky that formed out of the mist. He looked up, and instead of a ceiling, there were dark, angry-looking storm clouds, rolling and rumbling with wind and thunder. It was just bright enough that he could tell it was day, but just dark enough that it was incredibly intimidating. It reminded him of Berk. Hiccup squinted at the place where the walls met the sky. There  _ was  _ a ceiling, but it sort of...blended into the sky. So it only looked like he was about to be struck by lightning. That was a relief. 

 

Banners were hung from the ceiling, in all the different colors Hiccup had seen forming the crest. The crest itself was mounted above the table at the end, and now instead of blurry shapes, different animals decorated each color. There was a bird, a badger, a snake, and a lion, which he’d only ever heard of in one of Trader Johan’s stories. It was much more magnificent than he’d imagined at the time. Did the animals represent tribes? He didn't recognize any of the symbols beyond a general understanding of what the animals were supposed to be. Maybe this was some sort of gathering place for the tribes of this land. The Chiefs would sit at the head table, and the villagers would sit at the other tables. 

 

Except...there were four symbols, and way more than four chairs at the head table. Maybe the Chiefs and their heirs sat there? Maybe the second in commands, like Gobber and Spitelout, had seats there too.

 

Hiccup pulled himself to his feet. Well, foot. At least he still had his leg on him. He could make a run for it if needed. Speaking of which, where was the door? He turned, examining the walls for possible points of exit. There was a little door behind the head table, but that could lead deeper into...whatever this place was.

 

_ There.  _ At the opposite end of the hall were two massive doors that stretched up nearly to the ceiling, just like in the great hall back on Berk. That had to be the way out. Hiccup strode forward confidently, then almost immediately caught his prosthetic on something and came crashing down. He made an embarrassing squeaking noise and tried to catch himself on one of the tables, but missed and hit the floor hard. His chin bounced painfully off the stone floor.

 

Hiccup lay there for a second, dazed, then lifted himself up onto his knees and shook his head. Tripping over things had gotten very old very quickly, but someone was usually around to catch him. He started to stand up but froze as something behind him hissed.

 

Hiccup slowly looked behind him, worried he’d accidentally pissed off some exotic version of a Terrible Terror, and almost fell over again in relief when all he saw was a very unhappy cat. There weren't many cats on Berk, not with the dragons constantly figuring out which things were Okay and Decidedly Not Okay to eat, but Hiccup had always liked the ones that stuck around long enough to befriend.

 

“Hey there little guy,” said Hiccup, holding out his hand for the cat to smell. “Sorry for tripping on you like that. If it's any consolation, I think you hurt me more than I hurt you.”

 

The cat hissed at him again and arched its back. Hiccup yanked his hand back before the cat could scratch him, and watched as it darted around one of the tables and disappeared. “Oh, that’s nice,” drawled Hiccup, rolling his eyes and standing up. “Sorry for annoying you with my friendship!” That last bit was aimed at the table the cat disappeared under.

 

“Right,” muttered Hiccup, turning back towards the giant doors. “Escaping.”

 

Once again, he only managed a few steps before he was rudely interrupted. This time, it was a loud bang from behind him. Hiccup jumped, turned to look behind him, then tripped over his feet and fell over. Again. 

 

Someone had, very loudly and angrily, slammed open the little door behind the head table. The someone in question was also holding that stupid cat. Tattletale. 

 

The someone was a man with grey hair, some scruff around his chin instead of a proper beard, and bulging, lamp-like eyes, not unlike the cat’s. He was also approaching Hiccup quite fast, and he was yelling at him as he went, but Hiccup couldn't understand a single word of what he was saying.

 

Then the man was upon him, and Hiccup had to tilt his head back just so he could watch the man yell at him. He thought about saying something, then decided it wasn't worth it and he might as well just wait it out. It actually took quite some time before the man ran out of profanities to spit into Hiccup’s face, and in that time, the cat had wormed its way out of the man’s hands and was now rubbing against Hiccup’s ankles in a very smug manner. He wanted to kick it, but he doubted that would go over well.

 

Finally, the man stopped yelling. He stood there wheezing, then crossed his arms and stared down at Hiccup, eyes narrowed. Hiccup got the impression he was waiting for a poorly crafted excuse. Unfortunately, considering the fact that Hiccup neither spoke the man’s language or had an excuse, he was sort of out of luck.

 

The man’s eyes narrowed even further when Hiccup didn't speak. He barked something that sounded crude, then when Hiccup still remained silent, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet, then started to drag him towards the door behind the table. 

 

Hiccup stumbled after the man. He opened his mouth and nearly yelled at him to stop, but then remembered it would probably seem even more suspicious that he spoke a different language. Hopefully, he would just throw him out of the hall. Maybe Toothless was somewhere around. He’d been there, in that odd, in-between place, but then he’d gotten swept away. He’d have to find him first, then he could figure out what had happened.

 

The man dragged him through the door and out into the corridor. Hiccup did his best to keep up, but the man’s strides were long and hurried, and he was almost pulled off his feet more than once. His metal leg didn't help matters at all. 

 

Then they got to some stairs. Hiccup inwardly groaned, but he couldn't exactly tell the man to slow down. He climbed them as best he could, and managed to make it to the landing without falling to his death. Then the man stopped and seemed to wait for something. Hiccup looked up at him, confused, and almost said something, but then-

 

The staircase  _ moved. _

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Six more flights of moving stairs later, the man finally stopped in front of a massive stone gargoyle. Hiccup rubbed his shoulder. He’d accidentally tripped on the fourth staircase, and the man had nearly ripped his shoulder out of his socket in order to keep them both upright. 

 

Hiccup looked up at the man again, wishing he could ask what they were doing there. But before he could think of a way of communicating that particular inquiry, the man said a couple of words and the gargoyle came to life and jumped to the side, revealing a spiral staircase.

 

Hiccup sighed. At this point, he was less afraid and more tired of all this magic nonsense.

 

The man yanked him forwards and they stepped onto the staircase. It jerked into movement underneath them, carrying them up into the tower. Wonderfull. What was wrong with just climbing the stairs like a normal person?

 

Finally, they came to a beautifully carved wooden door at the top of the stairs. The man knocked, and Hiccup heard a new voice, presumably telling them to come in. The man opened the door and pushed him inside, nearly knocking him to the floor. Hiccup stumbled forwards, his arm finally released from the man’s iron grip.

 

There was a desk inside the room, littered with odd tools and machines. Behind the desk was an old man. A  _ really  _ old man. Like, older than Gothi old. His beard was long and white, and he wore brilliant purple robes. He peered at them through his spectacles, furrowing his brows in confusion when he saw Hiccup. He stood from his chair and said something to the man, who replied in an angry tone, taking the opportunity to shove Hiccup forward once again. 

 

The twinkle disappeared from the old man’s piercing blue eyes. He clasped his hands in front of him and said something stern to the man. Hiccup found that the old man could be rather intimidating without doing anything at all. He gave off an aura of great power and intellect, and despite not knowing anything about him whatsoever, Hiccup couldn't help but immediately respect him.

 

 With Hiccup’s captor sufficiently cowed, the old man turned his attention towards Hiccup. He looked him up and down, eyes softening when they caught on his leg. He said something that sounded like a question, and with a start, Hiccup realized he was talking to him.

 

Maybe this was a good time to come clean.

 

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re saying,” apologized Hiccup. “I don't think I’m from around here.”

 

The old man raised a bushy eyebrow. He hummed in consideration, then said something to the man. He scowled, but then left the room, leaving Hiccup and the old man alone. Hiccup gulped.

 

The old man smiled. He placed a hand on his chest and said the words,  _ “Albus Dumbledore.”  _ Then he waved his hand at Hiccup.

 

Hiccup blinked. “Albus...Dubbledore?” What in the name of Odin did  _ that  _ mean?

 

The old man nodded. He put his hand on his chest again.  _ “Albus Dumbledore.”  _ He gestured towards Hiccup, just as he had done before.

 

Oh.

 

Hiccup put his hand on his chest. “Hiccup.”

 

The old man -- no,  _ Dumbledore  _ beamed.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

One awkward silence later, and the man from before had returned, this time with company. He grumbled at Dumbledore, then stepped to the side to reveal his companion. A very pale companion. A very pale, very much  _ floating  _ companion. 

 

Hiccup stumbled back towards Dumbledor. “Draugr!” he cried, jabbing his finger at the dark spirit. A dead man, risen from his grave! “Get away! Draugr!”

 

The Draugr drifted closer to Hiccup, its feet barely skimming the floor. Hiccup backed away, shaking his head. This couldn't be happening! A revenant, a dead corpse walking. Draugr tormented the living, they drove people mad! Why was it here? Why had Dumbledore summoned it?

 

The Draugr peered down at him with a vacant expression. Then it opened its mouth and spoke. “You should not fear me, young Hiccup. I am no Draugr.”

 

Hiccup froze, his fear momentarily forgotten. It spoke Norse. “How do you know me?” he asked the pale man.

 

“I was informed of your presence here in the castle by Mister Filch.” the man answered in a bored tone. “He informed me that the headmaster thought me best suited for the job.”

 

“What job?” Hiccup questioned. “Who are you? Who’s Mister Filch?”

 

“Professor Dumbledore wishes me to teach you English, the language most commonly spoken in this part of Britain.” Said the man.

 

Hiccup waited for a moment, but the man seemed to be done speaking. “What’s your name?” he prompted.

 

“My name is Cuthbert, but you may call me Professor Binns. I am the History of Magic teacher at Hogwarts.”

 

Hiccup frowned. “Is this a school?” he asked. “It seems too...fancy to be anything less than a great hall.”

 

Professor Binns made a face and said, “I should hope it is a school, though the students never seem to learn anything.”

 

“But if it's a school then where are all the kids?” Hiccup asked. “The students. Shouldn't they be practicing with their axes or shipbuilding or something? There’s no one here.”

 

“I don't know if any of the students actively practice with weaponry during the school year, but as it is currently the summer holiday, there are no students in the castle.”

 

“Oh,” said Hiccup. “How long until the students come back?”

 

“The holiday is almost over, the new term begins in a week,” answered Binns.

 

“Wait,” said Hiccup, suddenly remembering that the man he was talking to was floating and white. “If you aren't a Draugr, then what  _ are  _ you?”

 

“I am a ghost, spirit, phantom, whatever suits your fancy,” said Binns, waving his hand about in a disinterested manner. “The students are under the impression that I don't know I’ve died, but, I assure you, I am quite dead.”

 

Hiccup was supremely disturbed by this, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin, before realizing it was only Dumbledore. Hiccup had nearly forgotten Dumbledore and the other man were in the room with them. Albus said something to Binns in English.

 

“What’s he saying?” asked Hiccup, curious.

 

“He would like you to take a test,” answered Binns, refocusing on Hiccup. “He wants to know if you are a wizard.”

 

“What?” asked Hiccup, brows furrowed in confusion at the strange term. A wizard? What was that?

 

Albus said something to Binns.

 

“He says that since you can see the castle, and the fact that you are here in the first place suggests you are magical.” Binns translated.

 

“Magical?” Hiccup repeated.

 

Dumbledore spoke again.

 

“He would also like to know where you came from and why you speak such a foreign language,” said Binns.

 

“Can we back up to the ‘you’re a wizard’ part? And it's not foreign, it's just Norse.”

 

“On the contrary,” said Binns. “The Norse language is no longer spoken. At least, not the dialect you have been using.”

 

Hiccup frowned. “That can't be right. As far as I know, the entire Barbaric Archipelago speaks Norse. It's not dead at all.”

 

Binns opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Dumbledore said something and the Professor turned to speak to him. Hiccup noticed that the man that had found him had left the room.

 

“Forgive the interruption, but Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to you.”

 

“Um, okay.”

 

Dumbledore said something. Binns translated.

 

“First of all, I would like to apologize for the behavior of Mister Filch. He had no cause to treat you in such a harsh manner, and I will be speaking with him further.”

 

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck. He guessed that the man from before had been Filch. “It's not a big deal. Thank you, though.”

 

Dumbledore smiled. “You are very welcome. Now,” He clapped his hands together. “I think some explanations are in order. Professor Binns has explained to you the purpose of this place, has he not?”

 

Hiccup nodded. “He said it was a school. Called...Hogwarts?” The unfamiliar word felt strange on his tongue.

 

“Yes, although I would like to think that it is much more than simply a school.”

 

Dumbledore turned away from Hiccup. “Everyone and everything in Hogwarts is magical,” he said, staring out the window dramatically. “This is a place where these magical beings are safe and protected, housed and taught. Millions of witches and wizards have graduated from this school and have gone on to do great things.” He turned to look back at Hiccup, who was already feeling overwhelmed. “And because you are magical, but you have no training, we would like to enroll you as a student here.”

 

Hiccup held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there before this goes too far. You want to teach me,” Hiccup gestured to all of himself. “A fourteen-year-old kid that just showed up mysteriously in your private magic school, how to be a wizard?”

 

Dumbledore nodded in a sage-like fashion.

 

“Nope!” said Hiccup, throwing his hands into the air and turning around. “Not happening!”

 

“Hiccup,” said Dumbledore. Hiccup turned to face him. “You have potential. Simply the fact that you are standing here before us today suggests extreme magical talent. Wouldn't you prefer that talent to be used for good, for the benefit of others?”

 

“Of course, I just -- I just can’t,” said Hiccup, frustrated. “I have to find my way back home. I can't stay here and learn how to cast spells. Besides..” Hiccup trailed off, thinking of the stories he’d heard about black magic and evil witches. Sure, they had seemed terrifying at the time, but so had the dragons. And witches and wizards were actually human, so that should be even less of an adjustment than living with dragons was bound to be. 

 

Wait, why was he even considering this? He had to find Toothless and get out of here, there was no question.

 

But he had no idea where to start looking.

 

Hiccup scratched the back of his neck. The atmosphere in the room was starting to get a little awkward. “Look,” he finally replied. “I’m not magical, no matter how much you seem to think I am. I haven't ever...I can't...I’m not a wizard, okay?”

 

“Of course not. That's why you're going to school.”

 

“No,” said Hiccup, pressing a hand to his forehead. “I mean, I don't  _ have  _ magic. I can't do it”

 

“Well,” said Dumbledore, “If that were true, then you wouldn't be able to see this castle at all.”

 

Hiccup frowned. “What?”

 

“Magic hides this castle from muggles--non-magical folk--so as to keep us hidden. If you were a muggle, then you couldn't have gotten inside.” Dumbledore clasped his hands together. “My dear boy, haven't you ever done anything unexplainable? Anything odd, strange, or simply impossible?”

 

Hiccup shook his head. “No, I’ve never…” he trailed off.

 

Toothless. 

 

That night, the night he shot down Toothless. His bola launcher, it hadn't been working. He’d been messing with it for weeks before that raid, trying to get it to shoot straight. There had still been a calibration issue when he’d fired it at Toothless, but he’d managed to hit him. And during their first flight together. After he’d fallen off, and Toothless caught him, and they were headed straight for the sea stacks. He suddenly hadn't needed his cheat sheet anymore, and he and Toothless had flown together on pure instinct.

 

And after they’d killed the Red Death. He shouldn't have been able to survive that fall. That's what everyone had told him afterward. Even with Toothless there to catch him, the infection in his leg should have been fatal.

 

But he’d survived.

 

Hiccup sighed. “Okay,” he said wearily. “Let’s entertain the possibility that I’m a wizard. How would we even prove that?”

 

Dumbledore smiled. “Just take my wand and give it a wave.” 

 

Dumbledore reached into his sleeve and pulled out a long, thin white stick. He held it out to Hiccup. He took it and immediately wanted to give it back. Something about it felt...wrong. Hiccup suddenly remembered every single drunken tale Gobber had ever loudly narrated in the great hall (the one on Berk) about black magic and dark spirits. No one had really listened to Gobber about any of it, mostly because he was the same man that brought them Boneknappers and the trolls that only stole left socks, but Hiccup was starting to believe him now.

 

Hiccup tightened his grip on the wand, steeling himself, then jabbed it at a pile of books next to Dumbledore’s desk. 

 

Green sparks blasted from the end of the wand, gathering around the books like flies to a carcass. They sizzled there for a beat, then dissipated. Hiccup dropped the wand as if it had burned him. It clattered onto the wooden floor with a condemning thud.

 

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I’d ask you to be more careful, but I suppose there’s no point in that now.”

 

Hiccup shook his head. “No, I can't!” he started to yank at his hair. “I need to go home! There’s so much stuff I have to fix! I have to make sure no one eats anyone else, and all the dragons have food, and all the sheep are okay, and I haven't even found  _ Toothless  _ yet, and--and--and-” he looked up at Dumbledore. “I just want to go  _ home. _ ”

 

Dumbledore was doing a very good impression of an old man that knows exactly what a youngster is talking about. He was stroking his beard thoughtfully, and his brows were furrowed.

 

“Where is home, exactly?” he finally said. “Perhaps we can find it on a map?”

 

Hiccup sagged with relief. “Berk,” he said. “It’s in the Barbaric Archipelago.”

 

Dumbledore said something, but Binns didn't translate. Instead, the spirit was doing his own “old man knows what’s going on” impression. Hiccup waved his hand in front of Binns’ face, but he didn't even blink. Hiccup glanced at Dumbledore, who, for once, seemed as confused as he was.

 

Then Binns flew through the wall.

 

Hiccup blinked. “I guess we’re back to square one with the whole language barrier thing,” he said, looking up at Dumbledore. Dumbledore blinked back at him.

 

Suddenly, Filch burst through the door, clutching an old book to his chest. Binns flew in after him.

 

Binns said something in English, then repeated it in Norse for Hiccup’s sake. “Forgive me for leaving so suddenly, but when you mentioned Berk, it seemed familiar. Then, I remembered a book I once read that mentions the Barbaric Archipelago. Since I myself am unable to manipulate the physical world, I asked Mister Filch for his assistance.”

 

Filch held out the book. Dumbledore reached for it, but before he could take it, Hiccup grabbed it. He stared at the cover in disbelief. 

 

The Book of Dragons.

 

Hiccup opened it to the first page, reading a familiar inscription.  _ Written, Illustrated, and Researched by Bork the Bold. _

 

And below that,  _ Revised by Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.  _

 

Hiccup looked up from the book, only to find everyone in the room staring at him. “Where did you get this?” he asked Binns.

 

Binns ignored his question. “This book is over ten thousand years old.”

 

Hiccup felt the floor jolt underneath his feet. “What?”

 

“It was discovered by Godric Gryffindor on a small island off the coast of Norway, many years before Hogwarts was founded.”

 

“Ten thousand years old?”

 

“The book was inside a great stone hall. The stone foundations of a village were all that remained of the civilization described in the book.”

 

“Stop!” shouted Hiccup, grabbing at his hair. “Stop! Let me think!”

 

It was impossible. Hiccup was just there! He had been on Berk just yesterday, and then he'd appeared in Hogwarts. It wasn't possible. It wasn't  _ possible. _

 

And yet here was the book.

 

And here was Hiccup.

 

Hiccup sighed. It looked like the decision had been made for him. He would stay here, at Hogwarts, and he would learn enough magic to figure out a way back to his time, and back to Berk. He would find Toothless, and he would make sure he was safe from these people, these  _ wizards _ . He looked up at Dumbledore. “Alright, I’ll learn.”

 

He paused, waiting for Binns to translate.

 

“And then I’m going to find a way home.”


	2. This is Starting to Get Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just real quick, this means English, and regular text is Norse. Unless, you know, the words would be italicized normally.

“You do know I don’t speak English, right?” said Hiccup, raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore. “Not to mention I’ve somehow traveled over ten thousand years into the future? And you want me to go shopping for supplies on my own?”

 

Binns translated. Dumbledore smiled at Hiccup and nodded, then said something to Binns. “I’m afraid Professor Binns is the only one who speaks Norse, and he’s unable to leave the castle, so you must go alone.”

 

It was the morning after Hiccup had arrived at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had made a bed appear in an empty classroom for him to sleep in for the week until term started, when he’d apparently be sorted into a ‘house’ of students and sleep in a dorm with them. The act of sorting kids into groups seemed a little strange to Hiccup, but he supposed they must have a good reason for it. 

 

Hiccup and Dumbledore (and Binns, though he really wasn't doing much besides hovering in a corner and translating) were now facing off in someone’s empty office, the latter attempting to convince the former to  _ step into a very much lit fireplace, what the Hel? _

 

“Yeah, I’m still not sure I want to do that.”

 

“It’s very simple. All you have to do is-”

 

“I know,” said Hiccup, cutting Dumbledore off. “Take a pinch, toss it in the fire, say  _ ‘Diagon Alley’ _ really loud and then pop out the other side.”

 

“Well, if you are so sure of what to do, then perhaps you would be so kind as to do it?”

 

Hiccup pointed at the fireplace. “But it's a  _ fireplace!”  _

 

Dumbledore smiled kindly, although the wrinkles around his eyes seemed more tired than kind at the moment. “Mr. Haddock, I’m sure you are aware that we here in this school are wizards?”

 

Hiccup blinked. “Yes?”

 

“Then you, by a series of acute observations and difficult problem solving, must have realized that we, as wizards, are able to perform magic?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So perhaps you will trust our abilities as wizards and know that this fireplace, is, in fact, a  _ magic  _ fireplace?”

 

Hiccup had to choke down a laugh. He would  _ not  _ laugh at this somehow hilarious old man. He was in the middle of an argument. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it.”

 

Dumbledore swept a hand towards the fireplace. “Then please, dear boy. Demonstrate.”

 

Hiccup threw his hands into the air, (somewhat) jokingly. “Okay! Fine, I will.” He took a pinch of the white powder from the container on the mantle of the fireplace. He went to throw it into the fire, but then he paused. It was a little weird that Dumbledore was so intent on making sure he went alone. What if Diagon Alley wasn’t real? What if he was literally just going to walk into a fireplace and burn to death because some old man told him it was magic?

 

Hm. Only one way to find out.

 

Hiccup took a deep breath. Floo powder clutched tightly in his fist, he stepped into the fire. He waited for it to burn, but oddly, all it did was tickle slightly. He raised his hand, and, with one final look towards Dumbledore, threw the powder down onto the coals. 

 

_ “Diagon Alley!” _

 

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As soon as the spinning stopped and Hiccup was no longer moving faster than the speed of sound, he took a step forward, out of the fireplace of a grimy tavern. 

 

Then he tripped over his own foot and face planted onto the stone floor, banging his chin on a particularly sharp rock that really had no business being a part of the floor in the first place. “We have to stop meeting like this,” Hiccup told the floor. He stood up and brushed himself off. He was absolutely covered in soot, but he was kind of used to it by now, having lived on a dragon-infested island for the past fourteen or so years. 

 

Hiccup heard a voice, and he looked up to see a man with no hair and only a few teeth standing behind the bar. He was holding an old glass in his hand and was polishing it with a rag. Hiccup glanced around the tavern and noticed that he and the bald man were the only people there. 

 

The man said something again. He sounded concerned, and he touched his chin, which Hiccup found odd. Hiccup hesitantly touched his own chin, wondering if it was some kind of foreign gesture, but then realized what the man meant when his hand came away smeared with blood. Stupid rock. Hiccup wiped the blood away with his sleeve. Thankfully, it was only a small scratch, and it had already stopped bleeding.

 

Hiccup grinned sheepishly at the man. “Sorry, I don’t speak English _ ,”  _ said Hiccup. “I don’t suppose you speak Norse?”

 

The man looked even more bewildered than before, so Hiccup took that as a no.

 

“Alright, nevermind,” mumbled Hiccup. “Okay, is this  _ Diagon Alley _ ?”

 

The man visibly perked up. He nodded furiously, gesturing with the hand holding the rag at a door in the back. Hiccup nodded at the man, smiling to show his thanks. He should learn how to say thanks. As he slipped outside, Hiccup noticed a few customers come in through the front, but they were quickly forgotten when the door closed behind him.

 

Hiccup found himself inside a small, walled courtyard, nothing but a metal bin and a few weeds inside. He thought that the barkeeper must have made a mistake and showed him the wrong door, but he didn't think there were any other exits, besides the front door. Maybe there was something in the bin, like a lever or a weight that would open up a trapdoor? Or maybe he should climb the wall? Was he supposed to use magic?

 

Hiccup started feeling the bricks, pushing and pulling, testing for a hidden switch, but nothing gave way. He was just about to give up and try climbing when the door swung open again and three teenagers came through, talking and laughing amongst themselves. The one in the middle, a dark-haired boy wearing glasses, quickly noticed he and his friends were not alone. He fell silent mid-sentence, his eyes scanning Hiccup up and down, lingering on his metal leg.

 

Hiccup waved. “I know you can’t understand me, but I’m really hoping you know how to get past this wall.”

 

The boy’s brows scrunched up in confusion. He said something in English, presumably to one of his friends. The girl next to him started chattering excitedly, digging around in her bag until she found a thick book with odd runes on the spine that Hiccup didn't recognize. The red-haired boy standing next to her looked amazed and said something that Hiccup didn't understand, but was obviously sarcastic. The girl hit him in the arm, and Hiccup was reminded of Astrid. The girl opened her book and dragged her finger down the page, then looked up at Hiccup and said a single word. When Hiccup didn't respond, she flipped to the next page and said a different word. 

 

This pattern continued until eventually, after at least fifteen more tries, the girl flipped to one of the last pages in the book and said “Norse.”

 

Hiccup nodded. “Yeah. Norse.” he guessed that the girl’s book had something to do with languages. With any luck, it also had a dictionary.

 

Sure enough, upon hearing him speak the girl flipped back to the front of the book and appeared to search for something on the pages. Finally, in stilted Norse, she said “Hello. The--the name of me is Hermione.”

 

Hiccup had to stifle a chuckle at Hermione’s terrible grammar. “Hello. The name of me is Hiccup.” he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Hermione completely ignored his hand, instead frantically flipping through the pages of the book, probably trying to translate what he’d just said. The red-haired boy stepped forward and shook his hand instead. Then he pointed to himself with a thumb and in English said: “ _ I’m Ron. _ ” It was clearly two separate words, so Hiccup decided that  _ I’m  _ must mean ‘my name is’ in English.

 

“ _ I’m Hiccup _ ,” he said, pointing to himself with his thumb as Ron had. Then he pointed to the wall. “ _ Diagon Alley _ ?” He was glad he knew how to say that at least.

 

The dark-haired boy took his wand out of his pocket and gestured at the pocket of Hiccup’s vest.

 

Hiccup shook his head. “No, I need to buy a wand.”

 

Hermione looked up from her book, eyes wide. “No, I need to buy a wand,” she repeated in a fascinated voice, before going back to her search. 

 

Ron rolled his eyes and stepped past Hiccup, taking out his own wand and tapping a brick above the bin. The brick he touched wiggled, nearly giving Hiccup a heart attack at the tender age of fourteen. A small hole appeared, growing wider and wider until they faced a large archway. Ron grabbed Hermione by the shoulder (her nose was still buried inside her book) and went through, followed by the dark-haired boy. Hiccup stuck close behind them, scared of being left behind, or having the wall close as he went through. The three of them obscured Hiccup’s view of the alley beyond, but then the dark-haired boy stepped to the side and Hiccup could see it all.

 

Hiccup gaped. He had expected something like the market on Berk, but this was on a whole other level. 

 

A cobble-paved street curved through tall, colorful buildings, eventually disappearing around a corner. Broomsticks and cauldrons were piled high in front of every store, and signs that Hiccup couldn't read were everywhere; hanging from roofs, nailed onto walls, posted in front of doors. Witches and wizards, dressed in robes like Dumbledore’s in every color Hiccup could imagine, and even a few that he couldn’t were bustling around like fish in a river or bees in a hive. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be, and everyone seemed to be yelling as loud as they possibly could. Hiccup suddenly felt very small.

 

The dark-haired boy was watching him with a curious expression. It seemed to be a mix of amusement and nostalgia. He held out a hand and said in somewhat understandable Norse, “Hello. The name of me is Harry.”

 

Hiccup clasped Harry’s hand like he’d seen his father do with other chiefs.  _ “I’m Hiccup,”  _ he said in English, cringing a little as he realized he’d already introduced himself. “But...you already knew that.”

 

Harry smiled and nodded his head. At least he was being polite, although he did seem to be confused by Hiccup’s words. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to clasp his hand like that? Hiccup quickly let go, his cheeks warming in embarrassment.

 

Ron shouted for them. Hiccup looked over Harry’s shoulder and saw that Ron and Hermione were a little further down the Alley, in front of a narrow shop with a sign above it. Hiccup didn't recognize the runes, but they looked similar enough to his own language that he thought he might be able to read it. 

 

Well, recognize the letters at least. He still spoke practically no English.

 

Hermione was flipping frantically through the pages of her book when Hiccup and Harry joined her and Ron in front of the store. She was mouthing words to herself, stringing together bits of phrases and dialogue in an attempt to communicate to Hiccup. Hiccup was about to try and ask the trio if they could help him with his shopping when Hermione cut him off.

 

“Do have...paper with writing?” she asked him in Norse.

 

“Paper with...yeah!” Hiccup dug around in his vest pocket for the list of school supplies Dumbledore had given him before he left. It was written in English, with Norse translations off to the side. It explained what books he had to buy (quite a few, considering he apparently had three years of school to catch up on), clothes he had to obtain (such as a uniform, a hat, and dragonhide gloves, something that made him slightly suspicious of wizards in general), and other equipment he would need for different classes, like potion ingredients and such.

 

Dumbledore had given him a brief rundown of all the required courses offered by Hogwarts, as well as classes students didn’t  _ need  _ to take but could attend if they wanted to. After a period of brief consideration, Hiccup had decided to take Care of Magical Creatures and the Study of Ancient Runes, mostly because they both sounded like things he would be good at, and in the case of Ancient Runes, possibly already understand, depending on just how ancient they were. 

 

Hiccup gave the letter to Ron, who quickly read through it. He said something to Hermione, who then flipped to a different page in her book and searched for a new word.

 

“One? Fi-first?” she asked him, stuttering slightly.

 

Hiccup pointed to the other side of the paper. Ron flipped it over. At the top, it read,  _ Please note that Mr. Haddock will be taking remedial classes for years one through three. _

 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. She looked around in her book for a minute, flipping to and from several pages at once. Hiccup waited patiently for her to find the right (though somewhat unintelligible) words. Finally, her nose still crammed into the pages, she said in a terrible accent, “I help learn...teach English.” She looked up at Hiccup, then pointed to Ron and Harry. “...We? help teach Hogwarts?”

 

Hiccup nodded, grinning despite himself. It would be nice to have friends once school started. He missed the other teens back on Berk. He was incredibly relieved he’d run into kids his own age; Binns, Filch, and Dumbledore weren't exactly the most fantastic company. He hoped he would run into Toothless soon, too. Hiccup was still pretty sure he was somewhere nearby, but until he had a chance to explore Hogwarts a little more he had no way of finding him.

 

Ron pointed to himself and Hermione, then to Hiccup’s list, then to the shopfronts of Diagon Alley. Hermione noticed, and clarified as quickly as she could in Norse, punctuated with words in English that Hiccup understood with context. “Ron  _ and  _ me paper-with-writing. Harry going  _ get _ stick... _ you _ go.”

 

Hiccup failed to stifle his laugh this time. He couldn't blame Hermione for speaking such awful Norse, but she sounded ridiculous! He couldn't  _ not _ laugh. Eventually, he came to his senses, wiping away a tear and nodding at Hermione, who had gone red in the cheeks. He took out the little pouch of coins Dumbledore gave him before he left and took out ten or so of the gold ones to pay for his wand (it seemed about right to him) and tossed the pouch to Ron. They shouldn't have to pay for his supplies with their money.

 

Ron caught it and tucked it away in his pocket. Hiccup suddenly came to the realization that giving away all his money to a red-headed teenager he just met might not be the  _ best  _ idea he’d ever come up with, but by that point, Ron and Hermione were already inside one of the shops. It looked like a bookstore. Through the window, Hiccup could see Hermione talking to someone who he assumed was the manager, while Ron looked around for the books on his list. Hiccup couldn’t see much of the shop through the window, but what he could see was very impressive. He made a mental note to come back and look at some books later.

 

Harry tapped him on the shoulder and gestured at the door of the narrow shop. It looked much older than any of the other storefronts in the alley, but maybe that was part of the aesthetic. After all, they could all do magic. There wasn’t really any excuse for peeling paint or loose nails when you could just use a spell to fix it all.

 

Wait,  _ was _ there a spell for that? He hadn't actually seen any spells people had done, besides when Dumbledore made a bed appear out of thin air for him the night before. He didn't think the moving staircases or the ceiling in the Great Hall really counted because they were already there without anyone having cast them, so maybe they were a different type of spell? 

 

Well, he was going to magic school for a reason.

 

Harry pushed open the door to the shop, and Hiccup winced at just how much the hinges creaked. In his professional opinion (however professional you could get when all of your recommendations were over ten thousand years old), they needed a good oiling. 

 

Hiccup went in after Harry and swung the door back and forth a couple of times, examining the hinges. “That's just ridiculous,” he muttered, watching as bits of rust flaked off and drifted to the wooden floor. He let the door swing shut behind him, noticing the faint ringing of a bell somewhere deeper in the store.

 

Speaking of which,  _ what  _ a store it was. He couldn't tell if the boxes and shelves really went on forever or if it was just a magical illusion of some kind, but either way, it was pretty impressive. 

 

He sniffled a bit. And considerably dusty.

 

He hadn't noticed at first, but at some point, after they had entered the store, Harry had begun talking to an odd-looking man, presumably the shopkeeper. He looked pretty old, but he didn't have a beard like Dumbledore. He did have yellow eyes, though. What was up with that? Was that supposed to look cool or something? It was just creepy.

 

Eventually, Harry beckoned Hiccup over and the man ( _ “Ollivander,”  _ said Harry, pointing at the owlish figure) blinked at him and pulled out his wand. Hiccup eyed the wand warily, but all Ollivander did was make some kind of tape float around and...measure him? What did that have to do with anything? Hiccup glanced questioningly back at Harry, but the other boy was watching out the window for something and didn’t notice Hiccup’s gaze.

 

A pair of fingers snapped in front of his face, and Hiccup turned back to Ollivander. He raised his arms, mimicking the older man’s movements, and waited for the tape to be done measuring him. When it was, Ollivander plucked a seemingly random box from the bottom of a tall stack (Hiccup held his breath, but it only swayed slightly.  _ Magic _ .) and thrust it into his hands. Hiccup looked up at him questioningly, then opened it. Inside was a wand. He didn't really know how to describe it, except that it was short and made of a sort of purplish wood. He took it out and gave it a wave, but nothing happened.

 

He looked up at Ollivander, a useless question on the tip of his tongue, but the older man looked quite happy at Hiccup’s failure. Rude. He dug out another box, this one from one of the shelves, and handed it to Hiccup. He put the first wand down and took out the other one. It was longer than the first one, and the wood was kind of speckled. 

 

He gave it a wave. Nothing.

 

Four tries later, and sort of disheartened (though he wasn't really sure why), Hiccup took the next wand Ollivander presented to him. It was the longest he’d seen yet, a dull brown color, and when he took it out of the box it felt nice and light in his hand. Suddenly feeling confident, Hiccup raised his arm and brought it down, and a wave of purple sparks erupted from the end and filled the room with a warm, mystical glow.

 

Hiccup stared at the wand in his hand, watching as the purple glow faded away. A smile was slowly spreading across his face, and he was distantly aware of Ollivander’s claps and Harry’s laughter. Maybe this magic thing wasn't so bad after all.

 

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Hiccup and Harry met up with Ron and Hermione near the entrance to Diagon Alley. Ron was tapping a brick in the wall with his wand over and over again and grumbling about something, but then Hermione took out her own wand and tapped a brick just to the left and the bricks fell away into the arch. Hiccup snorted a little at Ron’s sour expression but quickly fell silent when Ron shot a dirty look at him.

 

They went back through the courtyard and into the Leaky Cauldron. It was starting to get sort of crowded, with witches and wizards coming in and out in a steady stream of tall hats and colorful robes, but they managed to find a table and sit down. Ron went to grab some food, and Hermione dumped out the contents of her and Ron’s bags onto the table.

 

It looked like they had gotten all of Hiccup’s books, as well as a cauldron and telescope and the other things on his list. Hermione started talking with Harry, and Hiccup felt sort of left out until Ron came back with food. It was simple, just some meat and greens, but it reminded him of Berk, so it was nice enough.

 

Everyone dug in, and Hiccup started going through the books a little more thoroughly. He realized with a start that all of the books were in Norse instead of English. Hermione seemed to notice his surprise, and she smiled and handed him another, smaller book he hadn't seen before. It looked sort of like his notebook, but it was much nicer, with a stiff, purplish cover and a string around it keeping it closed. Hiccup unwound the string and flipped through the pages. They were all blank, but each one was split down the middle with an (unnecessarily ornate) line. Hiccup looked up at Hermione questioningly, but oddly enough it was Ron that took the notebook out of his hands and showed him how it worked.

 

Ron opened the book to the first page and set it on the table, creasing the cover slightly so it would stay open, and dug out a quill and ink bottle from Hiccup’s small mountain of new school supplies. He dipped the quill into the ink and scratched out something in English on the left side of the divided page, then quickly held it up for Hiccup to see. 

 

Then, to Hiccup’s absolute astonishment, words began writing themselves on the right side of the page. “What in the name of Thor…” he muttered, eyes widening as he took in the bizarre sight. His eyes got even bigger when he saw that the new words were written in Norse.  _ We figured this is help you learn quick,  _ it said. Hiccup looked back and forth between the English and Norse sides of the page, and it was soon clear to him that it was a translation of Ron’s words, although it clearly wasn’t perfect.

 

Ron set the book back down on the table and wrote a second sentence underneath the first. Hiccup watched the translation write itself, and wondered for the first time exactly what he could do with magic.  _ You do write something in the language you like to translate on the left side, and then writes itself on the other side in the new language,  _ said the translation.  _ It only works for English and Norse with this copy, but this way we don’t have to get Hermione to see through her book every time we need to speak something. _

 

Ron waited for him to finish reading, then started writing again.  _ Hermione seems pretty dead-set on learning Norse, though, so you yes want watch out for that. _

 

Hiccup chuckled a little at that. Ron handed him the notebook and the quill, and Hiccup paused for a second before he dipped the quill into the ink, slowly getting the hang of writing with something as fragile as a feather. He contemplated just showing them the translation once he had finished writing, but then decided to read it out loud instead. He had to learn somehow. He read the English translation carefully, and pronounced it as well as he could, though he was sure he had an incredibly thick accent.  _ “Thanks to you for helping me so much today,”  _ he read. He wasn’t sure which words to stress or to put emotion into, so he just said it flatly.  _ “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did. And thanks to you for this book, too. I’m sure it will be the big ha-  _ um,  _ help until I can learn English.” _

 

Not the most eloquent thing he’d ever written, but it would do.

 

Hiccup looked up from the book to see if his friends understood him, and was delighted to see that all three of them were smiling broadly. Hiccup grinned back and was somewhat unsurprised when Hermione took out her own copy of Hiccup’s notebook and started scribbling inside. Harry and Ron shared a knowing look, and Hiccup deduced through a series of acute observations and difficult problem solving that Hermione was a bit of an overachiever. Hiccup frowned, mildly concerned. It was like Astrid and Fishlegs had been rolled up into one superior being. Yikes.

 

Hermione finished writing and, in far better Norse than she’d been speaking earlier, told him that it had been no problem at all and, if he didn’t mind explaining, why exactly was he only starting school now, and in a country he obviously wasn’t from?

 

Hiccup had to think about that for a minute because he actually wasn’t sure how much of his…unusual circumstances he could reveal. He supposed that he could  _ technically  _ tell them that he was a ten-thousand-year-old Viking that trained dragons for a living and had somehow appeared in the Great Hall of a castle that taught wizard children how to use magic, but he guessed that only the second half of that story would make any sense to them.

 

Eventually, he decided to stick to the tried and true method of twisting the truth and began to write. _ “I’m a tra-transfer student,” _ he read, stumbling a bit on the unusual words.  _ “My village is very away from here, and there’s no school or wizards there at all, so I did-didn’t even know I have magic until rincintly.  _ Um _ , re-sently.” _

 

Hermione looked fascinated with his answer, and Hiccup knew in that moment that he needed to stay as close to his story as possible if he was going to have even the slightest chance of fooling her.

 

“Where is your village?” She asked him, reading very quickly. “What is that like there? Where did you staying until term starts?”

 

Hiccup blinked, then started writing answers to Hermione’s numerous questions as slowly as he could without seeming odd, so he had time to think of answers.  _ “My village is on an island called Berk,” _ he read, staying as close to the truth as possible.  _ “It is much old fash-ind there, and we all know each other and share everything. I’m staying in Hogwarts until school starts because I only just came yes-erday.” _

 

Hermione looked even more fascinated then she had before, if that was even possible, and promptly began scribbling down even more questions. Hiccup resigned himself to a lengthy interview, and apparently, Ron and Harry had as well because they had already begun to look through their new course books and were chatting casually. Hiccup picked at his meal while he waited for Hermione to finish writing down all of her questions, and idly wondered what would happen if he were to draw something in his notebook and if the magic would try and translate it somehow.

 

Over the course of the meal, Hermione continued to ask Hiccup questions, and Hiccup continued to answer them the best he could. He told Hermione that his island was very small, that his father was the Chief of the tribe, that yes, he did live in a tribe, and other things about Berk that would seem odd but not completely insane to an outsider. He did let slip that his people lived alongside dragons, and Hermione was so taken aback by this that she demanded a full explanation of how, why, and when this had come to be.

 

Hiccup told her the abridged version, that they used to fight dragons but it had turned out to be a big misunderstanding and that now they were allies. Hiccup got the impression that dragons had evolved somewhat since his time, and were much different during this time period. 

 

Hermione also tentatively asked him about his leg, a question Hiccup assured her was not rude in the slightest, and how the loss of limbs was actually fairly common on Berk due to their dangerous lifestyle. He told her a little bit about Gobber, and she mentioned a former Hogwarts professor that had lost an arm and one-and-a-half of his legs. Hiccup asked her how he lost them, and Hermione had to admit that she wasn’t sure, having never actually met the man, but she assumed it had something to do with his previous position as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. When Hiccup mentioned he was taking that class, she smiled and said that maybe they would have class together, depending on what house he was in.

 

This prompted a discussion of what exactly the Hogwarts houses were. The names didn’t translate well to Norse, but Hermione told him that one was for brave people, one was for loyal people, one was for clever people, and one was for ambitious people. Hiccup learned that Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all in the brave house, and wondered if he would be in that house too. Hiccup asked Hermione what she thought, and she told him that she didn’t know him well enough yet to really think about it, but she was sure that the hat would know. Whatever that meant.

 

Hiccup asked more questions about Hogwarts and what the classes were like, all of which Hermione answered eagerly. By the time everyone was done eating, Hiccup felt like he had a much better understanding of what exactly was going to happen that year, and he had learned a few more words of English to boot (he had committed “Thank you,” “Please,” and “I speak Norse” to memory). Then he mentioned to Hermione that he’d actually wanted to look through the books at the store she and Ron had gotten his textbooks from, and she looked positively delighted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The label of the wand-box says, ‘English Oak, Unicorn Hair Core. 14½ Inches, Surprisingly Swishy.’ Unfortunately, Hiccup can't read English. Oh, and don't worry about Hermione’s very convenient language dictionary. They were just at the Quidditch World Cup. She was going to need to know at least a few different ways to say hello.


End file.
